


The Naked Eye

by ChloeWinchester



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold in the Dark Castle, Domestic Violence, F/M, Implied/Referenced Drugging, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Public Nudity, Sex in the Dark Castle (Once Upon a Time), Vaginal Fingering, virgin belle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-11-04 17:54:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10995966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChloeWinchester/pseuds/ChloeWinchester
Summary: Belle has a gift, an ability to see through charms and spells that often aid her in avoiding trouble, toads and mischievous fairies. However, when the Dark One is summoned to aid her dying kingdom, the man is completely naked, yet no one else seems to notice. Belle is faced then with a choice, expose the exposed Rumplestiltskin, or agree to care for his rather large...estate.





	The Naked Eye

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the prompt by thestraggletag

Belle French had always had a unique gaze. Not only were her eyes the most stunning shade of blue ever known, unable to be captured by any painter in Avonlea or beyond, but they had a special gift as well. 

For as long as she could remember, Belle had been able to see through charms, enchantments and other magical means of deceit. Any masking done by fairies, disguises of hags and warlocks were no match for her eyes. Even the several princes who were really bloated toads and frogs desperately trying to kiss a princess to make it permanent stood no chance. She was able to see through any cloaking spell, thwarting several thieves around her kingdom, and avoided several drugged teas various suitors attempted to give her. 

Of course she could not tell the truth about her gaze to men like her father, who would likely attempt to purge the magic out of her in horrendous ways, given his attitude toward even the simplest of magicians. She came up with excuses not to marry the men who tried to bewitch her, why she found the thieves out and things of that nature. She saved herself, saved her people when she could, and yet…

For all the good her gift did her, it provided no help in saving her mother. She couldn’t keep the ogres at bay by looking at them. She couldn’t get away from Gaston even though her father had seen firsthand what kind of a man he was forcing on her. When it came down to it, her gift was utterly useless. 

Her mind and obsession with books brought far more fortune and answers than her eyes could, as she’d found a way to summon someone who could help. The Dark One, as it were, the epitome of evil, damnation and dark magic, could help them as he’d helped others before. There was always a price to be paid, and the larger the favor, the larger the sacrifice, but she was willing to pay whatever was needed. For her people, she would give her very life.

“Wear something nice, Belle,” her father had ordered wearily. “Perhaps your beauty can sway the monster’s mercy.” 

“Among other things,” Gaston murmured, looking her over with his dark, lecherous gaze. At least the war kept them from being wed. She didn’t think having him force himself on her would be something she could live through for very long during all this turmoil. 

So she waited in the great hall with them, dressed in the finest ballgown she owned, uncomfortable and anxious for the appearance of-- 

“Well that was a bit of a let down!” 

Belle jumped and whipped around like everyone else to see The Dark One, perched on her father’s throne and grinning wide. Her breath caught, a quick glance toward the others in the room telling her they weren’t seeing what she was. Belle’s gaze could see through any charm, including the one the powerful man had used to make it appear as though he were clothed. 

Her cheeks colored but she stayed quiet, her lips parted in surprise and...appreciation. Being as curious as she was she’d seen books of naked men and women before, so the form wasn’t a shock to her. But it was far, far different reading about something and looking at a hand drawn picture and seeing it, well, in the flesh. 

She lost track of the conversation, watching him rise and walk closer, giving her a look at every single inch of him. She couldn’t breathe. Rumplestiltskin’s skin glittered from head to toe, body almost too-thin but lean. Lithe with muscles shifting upon each movement, his thighs powerful and strong. Her knees felt weak, heat between her own legs she’d never known before. She wondered briefly if anyone noticed how she must look right now, or if the heat of the room was entirely related to her fluttering heart and not the blaze of the fireplace. 

The admiration of The Dark One, however, would have to wait, because now he was pointing right at her. “...Is her.”

“No!”

He must have been naming his price for his help, and he wanted Belle. Her lips parted in surprise, cheeks coloring all the more but she wasn’t allowed to speak. Gaston shoved her behind him roughly, standing between their only hope and his claimed property. “The young lady is engaged. To me!” He announced and her stomach curdled at the very thought. 

Gaston had cornered her before, hissed into her ear what he wanted and would do to her once she was rightfully his. He’d promised her he’d make her like it, hold her down until she did, and the moment she said ‘I do’ no one would be able to stop him. She’d managed to keep his mouth away from hers and his hands away from her most intimate of places, but she’d been left terrified and filled with dread every since. 

Now she was looking at her escape in all his golden glory over the arm of her worst nightmare, and they were threatening to keep her in this prison of womanhood she hadn’t agreed to attend. 

“I’m not looking for  _ love, _ ” Rumplestiltskin continued, and again she felt some relief. “I need a caretaker for my rather large estate.” 

She had to cover her mouth to keep herself from laughing. He’d said what she’d been thinking since getting a good look at him and it surprised her he had. Of course he meant the Dark Castle but the estate she was beholding now was - well rather large was an accurate statement. She raised her eyes from his groin, not wanting to take advantage, truly she wasn’t, still feeling as though she might faint at any moment from the excitement. 

“It’s her, or no deal.” 

“Get out!” Her father barked, and fear slapped away all of her desire, sinking in her stomach like cold gruel.  She took a step forward and Gaston jerked her back. “Leave!” 

Rumplestiltskin bowed politely, “As you wish,” then turned toward the door, swaggering away. 

“No, wait!” She called, slipping away from her fiance and rushing toward him, briefly distracted upon seeing the back of him was just as breathtaking as the front. “I will go with him.” 

“I forbid it, Belle!” Gaston snarled, and being far enough away from him and closer to the Dark One than anyone else, she let her voice regain its power and glared right back at him. 

“No one decides my fate but me. I shall go.” She looked up at Rumplestiltskin, her breath stuttering again now that he was this close to her. 

“It’s forever, dearie,” he warned, not knowing how desperate she was to escape this place, or how dearly she wanted to reach out and touch his skin

“M-my family, my friends, they will all live?” She managed, swallowing roughly. 

He bowed a little. “You have my word.”

“Then you have mine. I will go with you, forever.” 

The rest of the conversation blurred past her, frightening lust spiking in her belly again when he placed a gentle hand on the small of her back and guided her out into the hall where they vanished. 

She jumped when they reappeared in his castle, which was certainly in need of cleaning and care, but it was impossible to focus on when he was still so close to her, and still wearing absolutely nothing. 

“Welcome to the Dark Castle,” he giggled, fingers slipping from her back as he stepped away. She kept her eyes up a little too far, flushed to her neck. “Do as I ask and perform your duties well and we shouldn’t have issue. Understand?” 

She nodded, still not looking at him. “Yes, my lord.” 

Rumplestiltskin paused, brows drawing together. “Am I really that frightful to look at? You didn’t strike me as a faint-hearted girl.” 

“Hm? Oh, no. No, my lord-”

“Enough of that. Rumplestiltskin is fine. Or Dark One. But that’s it, you hear me?” He asked, as if his tone held a threat, but it didn’t. It appeared he was even trying to make her smile, so she did. 

“Rumplestiltskin,” she corrected. “It’s...a lot to take in. That’s all.” She didn’t want to embarrass her new master -oh gods he was her master wasn’t he?- and it would be impolite to say anything. So instead she stayed quiet about it and went about her new duties as though nothing were amiss. 

~*~

Rumple didn’t spend all of his time naked, just on days where he didn’t want to be bothered  with nonsense and was too lost in his head to worry about such things. The charm did everything for him courtesy of a ring on his clawed finger and he needn’t worry about anything else. 

Belle got used to it over time, and she quite liked how he looked clothed or no. His chosen ensembles were generally tight, leather and riddled with as much flair as he projected. He didn’t sleep, she noticed, and often spent great lengths of time in silence at his spinning wheel, lost in thought. 

Once he was so deep within his mind she was able to pause and really take him in. Today was an unclothed day, and standing where he was, the sunlight and sparse candlelight lighting and shadowing his golden form perfectly, he looked...like art. As if divine hands had sculpted him and placed him right there with the wheel slowly turning, glittering thread in his fingers, entirely at peace. 

Breathtaking. Utterly, completely, wholly breathtaking. 

“What are you looking at?” He asked suddenly and she started, nearly dropping the broom. 

“Hm? Nothing, just...got caught up watching the wheel spin,” she said quietly, looking at the floor. 

“Oh,” he sounded genuinely surprised. “Well...try to daydream  _ and _ sweep, dearie!” She smiled rolled her eyes, stealing another glance at him while his smirk made her heart flutter.

She got used to bantering with him, listening to him, fighting with him when need be, and, to a point, his occasional nudity. He found his way into her dreams, talking in his low, growling voice, right in her ear, hands and claws roaming her own nakedness, pressing against her with fiery lust and burning skin. She dreamed his teeth found her neck, her breasts, his fingers so nimble and deft she would be left screaming in pleasure from what they could do to her. She dreamed of how he would pant her name, how his member might feel inside of her, how he might taste… 

Each dream left her sweating and panting in her room in the library, soaked between the legs and shamefully keeping her hands well above her waist for the rest of the night. 

She was nothing more than a silly little girl, she told herself. Rumplestiltskin hadn’t the time or the desire to have anything to do with her beyond her cleaning duties. Yes, he spoke to her kindly, never raised a hand to her or really threatened bodily harm. He called her by her name, only shouted at her at the beginning of their knowing each other, and he trusted her to some extent. But it meant nothing. Nothing would come of her little fantasies and ridiculous dreaming. 

Belle simply went about her day to day, pining quietly though it confused her naive heart, and tried her best to shove all romantic and sexual thoughts of Rumplestiltskin far, far away. 

And then, one day, he appeared beside her while she was scrubbing the floors. “Belle?” 

She looked up at him, finding him closer than he usually stood by her, cheeks flushing to a brilliant red almost immediately. Today, apparently, was an unclothed day, and upon turning to look at Rumplestiltskin she found herself nearly eye level with his groin. She gave a surprised cry and slapped a hand over her eyes on instinct, turning away, as was polite and her initial instinct in the matter. 

Which, of course, revealed to Rumple that something was amiss. “What the hell is the matter with you?” He frowned, a slight flutter of panic working through him. No, he had the ring on, he hadn’t forgotten it. She couldn’t see anything...could she?

“N-nothing!” She stammered. “Nothing, I… You just startled me, that’s all.” She stood clumsily, knocking the bucket of water over and sending it all over the floor. “Oh, I’m sorry, I’m--” 

He waved it away, simultaneously putting the water back into the bucket with magic, his dark eyes trained on her face. “No, no, there’s something else to it, isn’t there?” He growled, watching her face. She blushed deeper. His panic grew. “Tell me, dearie, what frightened you so? Hm?” 

“Nothing, I, I just didn’t expect--” 

“Don’t! Lie!” He ordered. “Tell me this instant what’s gotten into you! This isn’t the first time you’ve looked at me like that. What is it?!” 

Belle winced and shut her eyes, as she’d been accustomed to after her mother died; loud noises of any kind put her on edge. “I told you, it--” 

“LIE TO ME AGAIN AND I’LL TAKE THE TONGUE FROM YOUR PRETTY LITTLE MOUTH!” He bellowed, and she simply couldn’t keep quiet anymore.

“You’re naked!” She blurted.

The rage in The Dark One’s face -mostly pretense to get her to speak- vanished, now replaced with his own deep blush and humiliation. A blink, flustered as it was, and he was clothed from the waist down. “How long have you been able to tell?” He asked, eyes so dark she could hardly see color in them.

“Since...since we first met,” she said softly, looking apologetic. “I, I didn’t want to say anything, I… I have this ability to see through things like that, I--” 

“What are you playing at?!” He snarled, closing the distance between her, attempting to frighten her. She didn’t back down, however. 

“Nothing!” She swore. “N-nothing, I, I just--” 

“Wanted to gawk, eh, dearie?! Have yourself a little laugh without me knowing?” He demanded. “Play your little game with me to what, humiliate me later? Is that what you thought would happen? Eh? You horrid little witch!” 

“No!” She shouted back, jaw set and jerked up toward his face. “No, that’s not what I wanted to do. I didn’t think anything of it! I kept quiet so I--” 

“You’ve just come to stare at the beast, haven’t you?! I’ll give you something to stare at! Or maybe I’ll pluck your eyes from your head!”

“I didn’t want to hurt you!” She shouted back. 

He opened his mouth to yell at her again, teeth bared to hiss at her and yet… He looked into her eyes, the ones he’d just threatened, and saw sincerity. He saw fire in them, a fair amount of shame and not a single ounce of malice. Her eyes were beautiful. The shade, the shape, how clearly she saw him, how she must see everything. He’d heard of her beauty before setting eyes on her. The chaste princess of Avonlea, so kind, so generous, so odd. 

Odd, they called her. Odd because of her mind, how much she knew, how much she read. Odd because she rode rather than sewed, because she wanted to see the world, because she wanted to save her people, because she went against their conventions in every way to be who she was. 

She was odd. She was beautiful. And somehow both of those things came together in this moment when he couldn’t help but stare at her. His cheeks colored again, matching hers, and the bile of humiliation rose in his throat once more.

“Lies are very unbecoming,  _ princess, _ ” he growled. 

“I’m not lying!”

“If, if you saw me like this when we met what other reason could you have for agreeing to come with me?! Were you really so desperate that you’d follow the hideous naked monster here?! Don’t pretend, dearie. I’m too old for such things!”

“I said I’m not lying!” She shouted, stamping her foot. 

“Then why did you come with me?!” 

“To protect my people! To save my land!” 

“And hope your twoo wuv would come and slay the ugly beast who took you--?”

“He is  _ not _ my true love--!”

“--Is that it? You thought your handsome hero would come striding up and murder me and all your problems would go away? Tell the truth!”

Belle forced herself to take a breath and look at him closer. He looked afraid. And mortified. She wished quite suddenly that she’d shouted out what she could see when they were still in Avonlea to spare him this. She softened before speaking again, touching his wrist. “You aren’t ugly.”

He looked surprised, then even more suspicious. “Don’t be ridiculous, you absurd little girl.” He shifted away from her.

“I’m not.” She reached for him again. “I mean that. I… I’m sorry I didn’t say something before. I thought...I thought it would be best if I kept it to myself. I keep most aspects of my gift a secret and...and I didn’t want to embarrass you.” 

“Too late for that, isn’t it?” He growled, lips pursed, shame etched in his face. He wished the floor would open up and swallow him up. 

“I wasn’t trying to stare at you or, or laugh at you behind your back. There’s nothing to laugh about, and...and I’d never be so cruel to you.” 

“And why not?” He asked. He hadn’t pulled away from her this time, and her touch was like fire. 

Belle took a breath before answering. “Because you’re not as dark as you want people to think you are. I know you can be gentle when you wish to be, and...and I know you’ve been hurt before.” 

He searched her face for the lie, any lie. He was certainly afraid of her, of what she’d been doing to his heart during her stay, how a look from her could nearly make him swoon. And now she...she said he wasn’t ugly. That had to be a lie for his sake, but at least she was being kind about it.

“The times I caught you looking...why were you staring at me?” He asked, keen eyes locked with hers. 

She blushed again, looking at him through her lashes. “Because...because you often look very...very beautiful and...it’s hard to look away.” 

Now he was all the redder and furious about it. They were still very close, and though he may have been clothed from the waist down, he felt bare as could be under her piercing gaze. “You’re lying.” It sounded more like a plea than an accusation. She shook her head, just looking at him. “Looking the way you do how…” 

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, isn’t it?” She asked gently, holding his hand more surely now. 

He swallowed. “You’re quite forward for, for someone a-as pure as I’ve heard you are.” 

She looked away, ashamed, her grip loosening on his hand and he immediately regretted what he said. “I...I’ve never been proper enough. I read too much about those...things and...and now it’s made me like this. I’ve never been with anyone...I’ve never wanted to be. Until…” She looked back at him, briefly. He secured their grip again. 

“You, you said before your fiance wasn’t your true love,” he whispered. 

“It’s arranged,” she confessed. “My father all but sold me to him in exchange for his army. He gave me away to a monster, a real one, and didn’t care what he might do to me. I kept him away but the moment we were married…” She shuddered and looked down. “I’ve never desired someone as...as much as I’ve desired you. It’s wrong and improper, but…” She shook her head, tears in her eyes, and moved away. 

“I’m sorry. I, I’ll finish up here, I--”

In an uncharacteristically impetuous act of desperation, Rumple caught Belle by her hand and guided her back to him, kissing her very, very softly. 

A surprised hum left her lips before she melted against him, sinking into the kiss gladly. Her fingers finally twined their way into his hair, pulling her closer to him. His lips were more gentle than she’d thought, careful hands on her waist holding her upright, careful not to scratch her  or dig into her. 

“You really haven’t done anything like this before, Belle?” He whispered, suddenly looking concerned. 

She shook her head, panting softly. “No. I’ve never kissed anyone or, or even had the courage to touch myself. You’d be the first in every respect.” 

“Belle…” He swallowed, chest tightening, entirely unworthy of her. He felt all the more ugly, monstrous, looking at this pure girl untainted by darkness he was sure to infect her with. “I, I’m not--”

A soft hand cupped his cheek, silencing him. She smiled gently at him. “It’s alright,” she assured. “You won’t hurt me. I want this. It’s okay.” 

He nodded a little, unable to deny himself or her any longer. He growled softly, chasing her lush mouth and groaning when he found it again. He gripped the fabric of her dress tight, scraping his nails across the fabric. His tongue flicked into her mouth, guiding her in what to do. She hardly needed the help. Her delicate fingers tightened in his hair, pulling at the base of his skull and he growled. 

A smirk worked its way to his lips when he felt her goosebumps, teasingly dragging fingers up and down the corset strings. He could feel the flutter of her heart, watch the blush reach the tops of her breasts, and it only made his own hunger greater. 

Belle was enthralled, knees weak, her mind trying frantically to keep up with what was happening and how desperately she wanted it to happen. She whined, leaning into his hands. Her own began roaming his back in slow, careful movements. Her fingertips glided over muscle and scars, eliciting a breathy moan from him. She groaned in return and sicced her mouth on the column of his neck, tasting more of the sweet flesh that haunted her dreams for so long. 

“Belle…” He groaned, finally working getting the slip off of her. He pushed it from her shoulders, delicately brushing his lips along her ivory shoulders and her chest. He lavished her breasts with soft kisses, cupping them through the thin white fabric. The taste of him was still fresh on her mouth as she called his name, nearly buckling again. He held the small of her back to keep her standing, smiling at her. 

“Maybe we, we should find a bed?” He offered, nipping the succulent apple of her cheek when she blushed again. 

“Yours?” She whispered. He snapped his fingers, taking them there with a wide grin. 

She’d never been allowed in his room before, and she was beginning to gather why. Black curtains hung every which way on the walls, blocking every ounce of light from entering here. Some were tattered and patched up, likely older than the castle itself. A large mirror was shattered against the far wall, the remaining pieces blacked out with smoke, the wood seared. The candles were lit with a greenish-black flame that he quickly changed with a slow wave of his hand. 

They turned soft, rosy pink and orange, revealing the desk piled with books she hadn’t seen before, the vast balcony door locked tight for winter. Her eyes rested on the bed next, which appeared otherwise untouched, save for the decay of time. He didn’t sleep, and it seemed this was simply for show. 

Another snap of his fingers and the bed was clean and inviting. She smiled up at him, trying to soothe the obvious anxieties in his expression. “I think you should let some light in here now and again,” she whispered. “Might remember your pants a bit more?” 

He laughed, and her smile grew, brushing her fingers along his cheek delicately. “Now, um, where were we?” 

Slowly, he kissed her again, backing her into the bedpost. She cooed against his mouth, wrapping her arms around his neck and leaning up on her toes to deepen the kiss. He dragged teeth over her lips, working down her neck again to find her breasts, carefully pushing the slip from her shoulders to bare them to him. Rumplestiltskin looked up at her, making sure this was alright, heated lips hovering over her skin. 

“Don’t tease,” she breathed, hiccupping when he opened his mouth and latched onto her. Her fingers tightened in his hair, her heart ramming against her ribs so hard she thought she might burst. 

“Shh…” He soothed, kissing around the nipple he’d just teased. “Breathe, dearie. Don’t want you to swoon, now, do we?” She nodded, taking slow, deep breaths, eyes never leaving him as he straightened up, slowly easing her dress down without breaking eye contact. “You are dazzling to behold, sweetheart,” he said softly, palms open and warm on her skin. 

She pressed her hands against his chest and his sides, daring to let her hands dip into the waistband of his pants to get handfuls of the pert arse she’d been desperate to touch for months. “You’re one to talk,” she whispered. The rest of the fabric fell as she was bare to him, lightly shivering in the chill of the dark room. He growled when she kneaded his flesh, stuttering when her thigh pressed between his legs. 

He kissed her, mouth searing, kiss so deep she felt it touch the blaze in her belly. Those hands she’d often dreamed about parted her legs, then parted her lips. She whimpered, nearly falling again but his arms twined around her, easing her onto the bed. He slowly worked her nerves, thumb rolling over the spot while his fingers slowly fucked into her. 

“You really haven’t touched yourself, have you?” He purred. She shook her head and he chuckled, kissing her neck, suckling the joint of her jaw. “You are soaking wet, you know that?” He asked, crooking his finger, eliciting a sharp moan that shook her whole body. “Seems you really do want me…” 

“I do,” she gasped, licking her lips and staring at him, pupils blown wide. “And you want me to.” 

“Of course I do,” he purred, watching her unravel beneath him. “I’d be a fool to not to. You’re much too good for me, do you know that, princess? Too kind and warm to waste such time on me…” 

“A-ah… Mmn… I-I think you’re plenty kind, plenty warm…” She slid her leg up around his waist, tugging his hair with her little fingers again. “But you could certainly show me more kindness…” 

He grinned, kissing her with a snarl. Suddenly his pants were gone, Belle’s leg hooked around bare skin.

“Rumple, please, please…” She begged. Her hips rocked, the loss of his fingers doing nothing to ease her ache for more, to be filled like she dreamed, to be lost to him completely. 

Carefully, Rumple eased his length inside of her. Her heat surrounded him, tight and pulsing as she grew used to him. He felt her knees tremble, heard her moan beneath his own, high and breathy, blessing him for obliging her. She looked like an angel, her hair billowing around her, cheeks flushed and red, a sheen of sweat along her porcelain skin. She glowed with want for him, with happiness and a completion he couldn’t believe. It distracted him so he nearly forgot what it was she truly wanted. 

She looked at him shyly, cupping his cheek in attempt to bring him back to her. “Rumple, please move.” Even seeing him naked as often as she had, it was still incredible to see him so wanton, so desperate to please her and...and the awe in his features. No one had looked at her that way before, not anyone, and it swelled her heart immeasurably. 

He snapped out of his trance and snapped his hips into her, catching her lips in his. He quickly lost himself in the inferno that she was, melting into her arms, succumbing and surrendering as he’d never done to another. Belle could only tremble and tighten around him, shuddering openly. 

He was everything, consuming her and overwhelming her, making her heart stutter and wonder what it was like without him, what her life had been without him. 

Lights burst behind her eyes, lips chanting his name as the pleasure crashed over her, and nothing existed outside of them until he released inside of her. 

They lied beside each other, panting, shaking, tangled around each other tight. 

“Mmn...That was incredible,” she breathed, nuzzling into his chest. 

He smiled, holding her closer. “I think so too,” he nodded. “Quite the caretaker, aren’t you?” He laughed, gently kissing her forehead. 

“Suppose I am,” she grinned. “I’ve no qualms taking care of your...rather large estate, I suppose.” 

He laughed again, cupping her face. “I’m quite inclined to let you, dearie.” He had an inkling this woman had changed his life forever, again. And he was quite sure he’d keep up his nude regiment. After all it was so rewarding. 

Too bad Belle had the same idea.


End file.
